


I'll crawl home to him

by genomalkns



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Boys In Love, Codependency, Columbus Blue Jackets, Detroit Red Wings, M/M, Riding, Tags will be added with more chapters, implied soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 06:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12030240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genomalkns/pseuds/genomalkns
Summary: "From the moment Zach met him, Dylan made Zach feel special - he made him feel special and needed and loved - and Zach has been doing his best to reciprocate that ever since. Dylan deserves that much, and even more."This is a self-indulgent fic about boyfriends-who-are-soulmates who would walk to the ends of the earth for one another, if it came to it.





	I'll crawl home to him

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hozier's "Work Song" because I'm a demon, probably.

_“Boys workin' on empty_

_Is that the kind'a way to face the burning heat?_

_I just think about my baby_

_I'm so full of love I could barely eat_

_There's nothing sweeter than my baby_

_I'd never want once from the cherry tree_

_'Cause my baby's sweet as can be_

_She give me toothaches just from kissin' me_

_When my time comes around_

_Lay me gently in the cold dark earth_

_No grave can hold my body down_

_I'll crawl home to her,”_

 

\- Work Song, Hozier

 

Zach knows it isn’t normal to know who you’re going to be with for the rest of your life when you’re seventeen. Zach knows this because everyone who has ever seen him and Dylan together has told them, in some way shape or form, that what they have won’t last. That Dylan buying him lunch when he doesn’t need to and giving him back massages will peter off over time; that Dylan’s arm settling over Zach’s shoulders as they watch movies until three in the morning, Dylan periodically pressing kisses into Zach’s temple, will at some point fail to make Zach feel like he could conquer the world if he wanted to.

 

It makes Zach want to punch something. What do they know? Who are they to say that Zach and Dylan are nothing more than highschool sweethearts, their love for each other destined to become less intense before fading into obscurity? They’ve got no idea what knowing Dylan - what _loving him_ is like.

 

Loving Dylan was practically a foregone conclusion for Zach. Ever since the first time Zach saw Dylan, he loved him; he loved his infectious smile, and his dumb laugh, and his ridiculous curly hair. And that love only grew once Zach got to know Dylan as a person. Zach loved that Dylan was generous with his time and affection when it come to Zach, blowing off other friends if it meant he’d be able to spend more time with Zach. Maybe they isolated themselves from other people a little, that way. Not that they don’t have friends outside of each other, because they do. But they decided long ago that they preferred each other’s company over anyone else’s.

 

From the moment Zach met him, Dylan made Zach feel special - he made him feel special and needed and _loved_ \- and Zach has been doing his best to reciprocate that ever since. Dylan deserves that much, and even more.

 

\---

 

When Dylan got into U-M, Zach locked himself in his room for six hours and refused to come out. He hadn’t meant to make it into a whole thing, but his mom didn’t know what to do except call Dylan and beg him to _do something_. Over time, Zach’s parents had realised that the way Zach and Dylan were with each other wasn’t going to change; that they really did love each other, beyond it being some sort of schoolyard crush. Zach’s parents love Dylan like another son at this point.

 

Zach heard the tyres of Dylan’s car screeching into the driveway not fifteen minutes later, causing him to leap up, bursting out of his room and into the bathroom across the hall. Zach had been crying for the past forty-five minutes, but Dylan didn’t need to know that. Zach’s eyes are puffy when he looks at himself in the mirror and he has to wipe snot on the sleeve of his hoodie. Giving himself one more cursory look in the mirror, he decides that’s the best it’s probably going to get.

 

“Zach? Your mom said you were in your room, where did you go?” And just like that, all the uncertainty that was coiled up so tightly in Zach disappears. Zach needed Dylan, and he came. Zach loves Dylan, and Dylan loves him back.

 

“In here.” Zach’s voice cracks somewhere in the middle of that, and his reflection grimaces at him. If it were anyone else about to walk into the bathroom with him, he’d be mortified. As it is, he’s just tired. He hears the door creak open behind him and sees Dylan’s curls reflected in the mirror before the rest of him. Dylan’s face is flushed like he’s run a mile and he’s a little wild around the eyes, but god, he’s so beautiful.

 

Zach turns around to face Dylan front on, offers him a weak “hi,” before opening his arms. Dylan doesn’t respond, just steps forward to circle his arms around Zach’s waist and shove his warm face into the crook between Zach’s neck and shoulder. It still makes Zach smile that he’s taller than Dylan now, broader than him too. Dylan’s the only one who can make him feel small, and like that’s something to enjoy.

 

Zach reaches up to card his fingers through Dylan’s curls, tugging a little when Dylan makes a contented noise against his neck. Dylan pulls back only far enough to graze his lips against Zach’s jaw, his chin, before they finally find their home on Zach’s mouth. They kiss each other slowly, leisurely, until Zach almost forgets what was bothering him in the first place. Dylan must sense Zach’s mind is wandering without Zach having to say anything, because he pulls back properly and looks at Zach. His mouth forms an unhappy pout and he removes his arms from around Zach’s waist. Dylan reaches up and rubs his thumbs along the tender skin underneath Zach’s eyes, like he’s wiping away the tears that were there before he was.

 

Zach opens his mouth to speak but snaps it shut when Dylan reaches down for his wrist, tugging him back towards his own room. Dylan tows him towards Zach’s bed and sits down so his back is against the headboard, pulling Zach in so he’s straddling Dylan’s strong thighs. Only once Dylan has his hands situated in their customary position on Zach’s thighs does he nod, as if to say Zach has permission to talk now. Zach smiles down at him, regardless of the maudlin feeling that’s returning inside of him in waves.

 

Zach takes a deep breath and says, “I don’t want you to leave.” He doesn’t have to specify what he means; Dylan had only sent the text telling him he’d gotten into U-M that morning. Zach grunts when he feels Dylan’s hands tighten on his thighs, thumbs digging into the meat of them.

 

“What makes you think I’m leaving?” Dylan tilts his head up, askance, and Zach leans down to kiss him sweetly. They’ve been in love for what feels like forever, in an actual ‘we’re boyfriends’ relationship for the last two years; they communicate half in words, half in kisses, at this point.  Zach pecks Dylan’s lips one more time before leaning back.

 

“Well,” Zach takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I have another year of high school, for one,” Dylan’s tapping his fingers against Zach’s thighs now, a distracting drumbeat. “and you’re going to university without me.” It’s not the most elegant finish, but it gets his main point across. Dylan is going somewhere Zach can’t follow, at least not immediately.

 

Dylan pauses for a moment, thinking. Zach is more than happy to wait him out, watching the play of Dylan’s thoughts across his face. He’s never had to wonder about what Dylan feels at any given time; it’s written as plain as day in his face, most of the time. While he’s thinking, Dylan drags his hands up Zach’s thighs to the soft Henley he’s wearing, thumbs nudging up underneath the material to rest on Zach’s hipbones.

 

Finally, Dylan clears his throat, says, “come with me,” like it’s as easy as that. Like Zach can just pack his bags and move to U-M, high school degree be damned. Zach thinks he’s pretty justified in looking at Dylan like he’s crazy, or like Dylan hot boxed his car without telling Zach.

 

“Uh,” Zach doesn’t even know where to start, here. “How exactly would that work?”

 

Dylan has his thinking face back on. Zach moves his hands from where they’d been resting on Dylan’s sturdy waist to rest on his neck, his thumbs brushing against the stubble that Dylan thinks makes him look distinguished. Dylan’s mouth quirks up at the corner, and Zach has to lean forward and kiss him, first his top lip then his bottom lip. Dylan keeps his mouth slack but Zach doesn’t mind, just moves up to place a kiss on the tip of Dylan’s nose and another one in between his eyebrows.

 

“What if…” Zach leans back at the sound of Dylan’s voice to look him in the eyes while he speaks. “What if you study this summer, and graduate early?”

 

“Would that work?”

 

“I don’t see why not, right? We can at least ask?” It’s the way Dylan says _we_ that has Zach grinning helplessly down at him. Zach feels stupid for doubting that he and Dylan would ever be anything less than a _we_ , that Dylan going to university could separate them. Zach lunges forward to kiss Dylan, their noses bumping painfully.

 

“Zach, honey, are you okay now? I’m going out to get some things. I should be back in a couple of hours!” Zach’s mum sounds like she’s shouting from the bottom of the stairs in that way she does. She got a little too used to Zach cranking up his music so he and Dylan could make out in peace, and never quite remembered how to regulate her volume.

 

Zach pulls back from sucking on Dylan’s tongue just long enough to shout back an affirmative, the front door slamming shut not even thirty seconds later. He and Dylan are panting against each other’s mouths now, and Zach’s sweatpants are almost uncomfortably tight around his thighs and the semi he’s sporting. Dylan’s hands move to grip his thighs once more, except this time when he sweeps his thumbs inward, it’s to graze along the hot line of Zach’s dick. Zach’s mouth falls open as he shifts into Dylan’s grip, barely there, not nearly enough.

 

“Yeah?” Dylan punctuates the question by sweeping his thumb over the damp head of Zach’s dick through his sweatpants. Zach moans in earnest, this time.

 

“Fuck,” A deep breath as Dylan presses harder, “fuck, like you have to _ask,_ ”

Zach can feel Dylan’s answering smirk against his cheek. Dylan gets so insufferably smug when he’s reminded of just how _easy_ Zach is for him; how quickly Zach bends over or gets on his knees. You’d think after two years of doing this that the novelty would’ve long since worn off. Dylan shoves Zach unceremoniously off of his lap. Zach can even think to complain when it means Dylan is shoving his own sweatpants down, hard dick bobbing up to rest against the bottom of the soft cotton t-shirt he’s wearing. Zach freezes, mesmerised as his mouth waters at the thought of getting his mouth around where Dylan is hard and hot and throbbing, _for him_.

 

“Hey, no, babe,” Dylan smirks again when Zach darts his eyes to him and lets out a noise at the pet name. “Clothes off, come on.” He pats his lap, hands framing his dick. And oh, it’s _on_.

 

Zach reaches behind his head to pull off his Henley, knowing it pulls the muscles in his stomach, chest and arms taut. He allows himself a smirk of his own when he hears Dylan let out a gasp, followed by the slick sound of Dylan’s hand working over his dick. Zach doesn’t tell him to stop, because he also found out through trial and error that Dylan’s stamina? Is pretty fucking insane for a guy their age.

 

Once he’s out of his own sweatpants and as naked as the day he was born, Zach straddles Dylan’s thighs again. Instead of sitting straight down like he wants to, he keeps himself suspended and cups Dylan’s face in his hands as he kisses him, his dick dragging wetly across the soft fabric of the shirt Dylan still hasn’t taken off. Zach doesn’t have to wait long.

 

“Fuck, come on,” Dylan physically drags Zach down until he’s sitting on Dylan’s thighs, Zach’s own thighs stretched obscenely over the thickness of Dylan’s. Zach is going to ache in the morning - probably in more ways than one, by the time they’re done - and he couldn’t be happier about it. Zach likes being able to feel Dylan when he’s not there.

 

Dylan gets a big hand around both of their dicks, his thumb collecting the precome from his own dick and spreading it down Zach’s. The visual is enough to make his dick jerk, let alone the feeling of it. He’s lost count of the amount of times they’ve fucked since they officially called this thing a relationship, but he never gets tired of it. It never feels any less overwhelmingly good.

 

Both of their dicks are cut so they don’t need to pause for lube, can just jerk each other off with spit and the precome that dribbles out faster and faster as they each get more turned on. And while this feels good - feels fucking fantastic - Zach needs _more_. He shifts forward restlessly, making Dylan lose his grip on their dicks. Dylan looks up at him, a question in his eyes. Dylan leans forward, his lips latch onto the meat of Zach’s shoulder. Zach grunts when Dylan sucks the skin messily into his mouth. Zach knows the other guys in the locker room will give him shit for such an obvious hickey, but he can’t really complain when it makes his dick twitch obviously where it rests against Dylan’s stomach.

 

Zach lets himself reach down and grab the hand Dylan was using to jerk them both off, bringing it up to his own mouth. Dylan pulls back from the matching hickey was sucking into Zach’s other shoulder to see what he’s up to and almost swallows his tongue when Zach opens his mouth and sucks in three of Dylan’s fingers. The taste of their combined precome is enough to make him moan, Dylan echoing him moments later. He bobs his head, getting the digits wet, before pulling Dylan’s fingers out of his mouth with an obscene _pop_. There’s no doubting he has Dylan’s attention now.

 

“I want you to fuck me, please.” If Zach has learnt anything in the time he and Dylan have been in a relationship, it’s that saying ‘please’ is guaranteed to get him just about anything he wants. He’s not above exploiting that.

 

“ _Fuck_ , yeah, okay.” Dylan taps Zach on the hip to get him to lift up then reaches around so he can rub his spit-slick fingers against Zach’s hole. The last time they did this was three days ago, so they should probably use lube. But if Zach is honest with himself he wants to be able to feel this for hours afterwards, and Dylan is always willing to indulge him where it counts. Zach still gasps at the feeling of Dylan’s first finger breaching him, though. He forces his muscles to relax, his thighs quivering where he’s been holding himself up.

 

Dylan pauses. “You wanna roll over?”

 

Zach considers Dylan, and his own position. If he rolls over there’ll obviously be less strain on his thighs. But if he stays like this, he’ll be able to get Dylan’s dick as deep in him as he likes and stay sitting on it, after, if Dylan will let him. Dylan usually lets him. Zach shakes his head.

 

Dylan smiles at him as presses a soft kiss against Zach’s cheek before he reaches back around to Zach’s hole and pushes his finger in completely. Zach’s mouth drops open on a moan and he lets himself fall forward, Dylan catching him against his chest with a strong arm.

 

“You’re okay, baby, you’re okay,” Dylan is pumping his fingers in and out of Zach now, the noise of it loud in the room. Just as Zach feels himself relaxing and opening up around the single digit, Dylan removes his finger entirely. He holds two fingers up to Zach’s face, says, “Suck.”

 

Zach blushes bright red. One of those fingers was just _in_ him, and Dylan wants him to… fuck, who’s he kidding. He grabs Dylan’s wrist, frantic, taking the proffered fingers into his mouth and getting them both as slick as he can. The noise Dylan makes at the image can only be described as guttural. When Zach pulls his mouth off of Dylan’s fingers this time, they’re glistening with spit.

 

“Good boy,” Dylan mutters as he pushes two fingers into Zach’s hole, scissoring them in an effort to open Zach up quicker. Zach’s panting open-mouthed against Dylan’s collarbone. Zach loves how full he feels with Dylan’s fingers in him, loves even more how full he feels when Dylan replaces those fingers with his dick. Dylan’s dick is maybe a little above average in length, thick through the middle with a prominent vein running along the underside of his shaft. To say Zach loves Dylan’s dick is a little bit of an understatement.

 

Dylan has been avoiding Zach’s prostate this entire time, making him squirm for it. Zach doesn’t whine for it like he sometimes would. More than anything, today, Zach knows Dylan will treat him right. Dylan scissors his fingers one more time before stilling them. He nudges Zach underneath his chin with his clean hand, wordlessly asking Zach to look at him.

 

“Do you want three, or my dick?” Dylan punctuates this with a particularly sharp thrust of the two fingers he’s left inside Zach. “Your choice.”

 

Zach’s answer doesn’t require much thought.

 

“Your dick, please.” Zach deliberately clenches down on Dylan’s fingers for the way it makes Dylan go a little cross-eyed. Dylan pulls his fingers out, the sound of it loud and crude in the room. Reaching over with his clean hand, Dylan tugs open Zach’s bedside drawer for the lube. No matter what Zach might want, Dylan would never knowingly hurt him. Maybe if they’d fucked more recently and Zach was still loose, Dylan would drag Zach down onto his dick dry saved for the spit slicking his hole. As it is, Dylan rubs lubed-up fingers along Zach’s hole before working them inside, just enough to get Zach slick. When he’s satisfied with that he retracts his fingers a final time and jacks his dick with the leftover lube.

 

Dylan doesn’t reach for a condom; doesn’t even have any in the drawer. They were each other’s first. If he has anything to say about it, Zach thinks, they’ll be each other’s lasts as well.

 

Zach is squirming and impatient, now. He can feel his hole open and clenching around nothing, and the sight of Dylan’s hand on his dick is making Zach feel twitchy with need.

 

“Please, can you -” Dylan takes his hand off of his dick and guides Zach down, Dylan’s hand sticky where it grips Zach’s hip. Once Zach is close enough, Dylan has to shift his hand to his dick so he can guide it past Zach’s hole and then - “ _Fuuuuuck_.”

 

Zach doesn’t waste any time letting his body accommodate to the girth of Dylan’s dick, working his hips down in little thrusts. He feels his mouth drop open and Dylan’s fingers on his bottom lip a moment later - his clean hand, this time. As Zach bottoms out he sucks Dylan’s fingers into his mouth and locks eyes with Dylan as he sucks and rolls his hips at the same time. Everything about the moment is perfect; Zach’s is about as full as he can get - full of Dylan’s dick, his fingers, his _love_ \- and he’s practically euphoric with it. Zach lets Dylan’s fingers fall from his mouth so he can concentrate enough to grip Dylan’s shoulders, starting a bouncing rhythm on Dylan’s dick that he knows will get them both where they need to be in no time.

 

Dylan brings his knees up behind Zach’s back, feet flat against the bed, which is about as much warning as Zach gets before Dylan starts thrusting up to meet him.

 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” is all Zach is capable of getting out, his eyes screwed shut against the overwhelming rush of sensation. Where Dylan had been avoiding Zach’s prostate before, he’s blatantly aiming for it now. Zach’s seeing fucking _stars_. It takes him a moment to realise Dylan is saying something, but when he does he moans even louder at the words.

 

“I’d never - fuck - I’d never leave you, you know that, right?” Dylan’s starting to lose his rhythm, now, his dick swelling up impossibly harder inside of Zach. Zach thought it was a pretty rhetorical sounding question, but apparently not. “Open your eyes for me, baby.”

 

Zach does. Dylan’s own eyes are wide and earnest when they catch his gaze, Dylan still doing his best to drive his dick deep into Zach.  

 

“I’d never leave you.” Zach nods, overcome. “I love you so much it fucking hurts sometimes, you know?”

 

Zach feels a lump form in his throat. God, does he know? Of course he fucking knows. Sometimes he feels like he doesn’t have enough space inside of him for all of the love he feels for Dylan. Zach knows he’d do anything for Dylan and that Dylan would do the same, no question. That that has been the case practically the entire time they’ve known each other, even when this thing between them was too big to put a name to.

 

“Yeah, I know.” If it comes out a little wet sounding, Dylan is nice enough not to mention it. Dylan’s hands come up to cup Zach’s face, pulling him in until his face is pressed up against Dylan’s sweaty neck. It makes Zach smile to think that their position from earlier has been so neatly reversed. It also has the delightful effect of changing the angle of Dylan’s dick inside of Zach, so that the plump head is nudging hard against his prostate.

 

When Zach comes, it feels like an afterthought. His dick twitches hard against Dylan’s cotton-covered abs, come landing hot on Dylan’s shirt before it begins to dry. Zach is panting against Dylan’s neck and completely unable to stop the way his ass clenches around Dylan’s dick. Dylan groans and thrust up hard once, twice, before Zach feels him come. The immediate wet feeling makes him squirm, overcome.

 

In an effort to ground himself he kisses along Dylan’s neck, making his way to his mouth. He smiles to feel Dylan’s big hands sweeping up and down his sweaty back. Dylan’s mouth, when Zach gets to it, opens hungrily under his own. The kiss back and forth for a while, Dylan’s dick softening where it’s still inside Zach. Zach can’t bring himself to move just yet.

 

His voice is steadier when he speaks again. “I love you so much,” Dylan’s hands pause briefly on his back before they move again, firmer this time. “and if I can go to U-M with you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen, you know? I don’t wanna be here without you.”

 

Dylan makes a soft noise against Zach’s cheek and presses a kiss there. “I know.”

 

Zach lets Dylan pepper kisses across his face; one on his forehead, one for each of his closed eyelids. When Dylan places a kiss on the tip of his nose, Zach opens his eyes. He feels drunk. “I don’t wanna be anywhere without you.”

 

This time it’s Dylan whose voice comes out sounding choked up. “God, sweetheart, I know. I don’t want to be anywhere you’re not either.” He sweeps his thumbs underneath Zach’s eyes, catching the tears Zach didn’t even notice had fallen. The kiss Dylan presses against his mouth feels like a full stop; like the love they have for each other has always been - will always be - a foregone conclusion. His name is Zach Werenski, and Dylan Larkin loves him.

 

They stay like that until they have to get up. When he stands, the inside of Zach’s thighs are tacky with a combination of lube and Dylan’s come, and Zach runs a finger through the mess with a contemplative hum. “Shower?”

 

Dylan smiles at him. “Yeah.”

 

They let their hands glide listlessly over one another in the warm water of the shower, pausing occasionally to kiss each other. It makes Zach smile whenever Dylan tilts his head to kiss him. 

 

When Zach’s mom comes home, it’s to find Zach and Dylan curled around each other like parentheses in his bed; knees pressed up against each other through their sweatpants, heads bent together like they fell asleep mid-sentence. A smile springs unbidden to her face and she unconsciously twists her wedding band around her finger, remembering what it felt like to be so young and in love with someone. She closes Zach’s door softly and walks downstairs. When she finds her husband, he’s watching the sports network, entirely engrossed. She leans over and busses him on the cheek.

 

He jerks his head away in surprise before smiling up at her. “What was that for?”

 

“Just for being you. We made a good one, didn’t we?”

 

He doesn’t have to ask her what she means. “Yeah, we did.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to publish this until I had the entire thing written, but when these two scenes nudged up towards 4,000 words I realised something had to give. I hope you enjoy this first chapter! 
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> Come yell at me about hockey and this pairing over on tumblr; I'm @genomalkns there too.


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